


Choice

by Rinkafic



Series: Telpa 'verse [1]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M, M/M, Stargate Atlantis AU, Stargate Atlantis Telpa 'verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-12
Updated: 2011-09-12
Packaged: 2017-10-23 16:35:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/252470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinkafic/pseuds/Rinkafic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Warning: Slave!fic, minor BDSM</p><p>Wrin Parr'ish goes shopping for a new body telpa and comes home with more than he had planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Choice

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Slave!fic, Dub Con, Minor BDSM
> 
> When I did this story as an answer to a Kink Bingo prompt; Masters, Doms, Subs & Slaves - I never thought it would grow into the creature that it is. As it was set up to be a one-off originally, I did not put as much thought into the world building as I normally do, and thus there are some plot holes that I've been back pedaling to fill. My apologies to the reader.
> 
> There's a brief glossary at the end.

**  
**

The Wrin of Bardero Parr’ish smiled to himself as he wandered through the pens, idly dragging a finger along the top rail as he stopped to peer within.  This was the batch his runner had come to fetch him to see.  His runner knew his tastes, knew his needs.  His runner also knew better than to waste the Wrin’s time, punishment for such would be swift.

“Keeper!”

“I beg your pardon, Wrin Parr’ish, I did not know you were attending the sales personally today, else I would have met you at the gate.  How may I help, Wrin?”  The woman was old, toothless, ugly and had a cruel streak that ran deeper than the Wrin’s own.  She was also a helpless ball kisser when she smelled a heavy purse.

Feigning interest in the prospective telpa penned across from the one he actually came to see, he asked casually, “Where did this lot come from?”  

The Keeper waved a hand heavily calloused from the whip to encompass the four pens in the section.  “Off the battlefield at Klost, Wrin Parr’ish.  Choicers, all of them.”

“Of course they are,”  Parr’ish snorted, knowing that statement was as far to the right of the truth so as to be considered left.  He had experience with some of the wares marked as Choicers in the past.

He leaned close to the bars, looking in at the drugged and somber faces within each of the pens before stopping in front of the one his runner had told him about.  “Which side are they from?”  

“Why, the losing side, Wrin Parr’ish!  Aren’t they always?”  She cackled at her joke and he glared at her with a menacing tilt to his head until her laughter tittered off nervously.   

The Wrin stared a moment longer.  When she fell completely silent he said, “Open it up.”

Her keys jangled on her belt and she opened the door to the pen.  He swept past her, pulling his robes close so that he did not brush against her, or any of the wares in the pen.  He walked slowly down the line of telpas sitting on the bench.  Drugged into submission, they stared off at nothing.  The drugs made it so much harder at times.  It was so difficult to truly judge their temperament when they were like this, he’d had to sell off many an unsuitable body telpa over the years because once the drugs wore off they just couldn’t be broken to his satisfaction.

His runner had done well.  Almost at the end of the row, he found the one he was meant to see.  Brown hair, broad shoulders, stocky thighs, muscled arms.  He stopped in front of the telpa and used the handgrip of his walking stick to force the man’s chin up.  “Open your mouth,” he commanded sternly.  When the man did not comply, he backhanded him with one leather clad hand. “I will not tell you a third time.  I rarely repeat myself a second.  Open your mouth.”

The telpa did as ordered, blinking bleary, blood-shot blue eyes up at him.   That almost sold him then and there; blue eyes were a valuable breeding commodity.  The teeth were good; this one had eaten well for most of his life.  Not recently, judging by the state of his hair and skin, but he had been healthy before the circumstances that brought him to the pens.  

“I’ll take this one.”  Wrin Parr’ish let the walking stick drop away.  The telpa’s chin stayed up and he watched with something almost like curiosity.  Parr’ish shook that away as a bit of whimsy as being impossible, the drugs washed all that away, along with their personalities.  He held out a small sack of coins to the Keeper.  He would not stoop to bargaining, that was not the way of a Wrin of his standing.  “Eighteen zercs.  I warn you, Keeper, if this one is not a Choicer, this will be the last time Bardero Parr’ish sets foot in your pens.”

The Keeper looked nervous for a moment, and then nodded and pocketed the coin.  Perhaps this one really was a Choicer.  It would make for a nice change.  “Have him fed, cleansed and for the love of the goddess, get that crap out of his blood.  I expect a telpa ready for training at third bell tomorrow.  Am I understood, Keeper?”

“Yes, of course, Wrin Parr’ish.”

“Wrin Parr’ish,”  The voice from behind him was so unexpected that he nearly dropped his walking stick.  He looked over his shoulder to see his newly purchased telpa looking straight at him, licking his lips.  “A mercy, Wrin Parr’ish,” the voice was hoarse from disuse.  He shouldn’t be able to talk at all; with the amount of drugs they gave the penned telpa.  Surprise and curiosity overrode his instinct to ignore a mere body telpa.

“Clearly, you do not know that I am not known for mercy.  I’ll hear you out, if you can say anything of sense.”  He slapped the head of his walking stick in his palm.

“Girl.  Please take girl too,” The effort to speak cost the man, he slumped back, obviously drained and in pain from fighting against the drugs to make his request.

The Wrin spun on his heel and called harshly, “Keeper!  Are you selling pairs separately?  That is against the law!”

“No, no, I swear, Wrin Parr’ish.  They aren’t a pair.  I think they were in the same unit, is all.  That one there, the skinny one, no good for breeding, doesn’t have the hips.”

Accustomed to making decisions quickly, Wrin Parr’ish decided to accede to the request of the telpa.  If nothing else, the girl’s fate would be something to hold over the man during his training.  She might even prove to be his breaking point.

He pulled a handful of zercs from his coat pocket and held them out, waving the coins when the Keeeper didn’t jump to take them.  “I’ll take the girl too.  Eight zercs, if she can’t breed, she probably isn’t even worth that.  I couldn’t even sell her to the brothels with that coloring.  Have her cleansed and sent along with the male.”

He strode from the pens, wondering what exactly had made him give in to the whim of a telpa?  Cursing his momentary weakness, he vowed to make the telpa pay dearly for the boon.  Wrin Parr’ish smiled slyly as he considered exactly how he’d make this one pay.

~*~

  


“I heard you went down to the pens yesterday and made some purchases, David,”  DranWrin Parr’ish said as he sipped his fruit juice.  

Spinning the goblet of juice between his fingers, he didn’t meet his father’s eyes.  That was never a good thing to do under the best of circumstances.  “I was bored, Father.  I heard there were some new Choicers to be had.”

“What happened to the last three?  Honestly, David, I don’t give you money so you can waste it breaking your things.”

“They wear out.” 

His brother Phil snorted derisively.  “You wear them out.”  

Unperturbed by the correction, David shrugged and took a sip of his juice.  “Same difference.”

“No more funds until next taxing,”  DranWrin Parr’ish declared with a slash of his hand.  “Perhaps that will teach you to value things more.”

Phil smiled jovially.  David made a rude gesture at him and pushed his chair back from the table.  “Understood father.  I have training to undertake.” 

~*~  


He stormed from the dining hall to the training rooms, flinging the doors open he bellowed, “Anjenne!”

“Yes, Wrin Parr’ish, I hear, I obey.”  The bald servant dashed forward, setting the whip and chains dangling from his wide leather belt swinging and rattling noisily.  He went to one knee when he got within striking distance of the Wrin’s hand, as was proper and expected.

“You may stand, Anjenne.  Were the new ones delivered?”

“Yes, Wrin Parr’ish.”

He crossed his arms and considered how he wished to approach today’s training.  “Bring the female, I wish to test her.”

Anjenne hesitated; just the barest of moments, enough to let the Wrin, after many years of reading this particular telpa’s body language, know that he had a comment.  “You have an opinion to offer, Anjenne?”  

The bald man tilted his head and smirked, “She is a loud one, Wrin Parr’ish, and a wriggler.”

He hated wrigglers.  They were so… messy; the wrigglers were always the ones that caused accidents.  Not to mention that they were tiring to work over.  “Very well.  Bring her directly to the cross; we’ll see if we can’t break her of that first.”  He wouldn’t have bought her, if he’d known she was going to be this much work.

It seemed Anjenne’s assessment was correct; the woman was trying to get her wrists free from the two burly Trainers that were dragging her into the chamber.   David sighed and directed the Trainers with a glance at the cross.  As they reached it, he said, “Out.”  Turning her around, the handlers forced the woman’s back up against the cross.  One held her in place with an elbow braced across the top of her breasts while the other bent to do the ankle restraints and wrap the leather straps around each of her thighs and waist to hold her.

Once she was unable to act on the idea of running off, the Trainer lifted his arm from her chest and secured her wrists.  With a glance over his shoulder at the Wrin for permission, he also fastened straps around her upper arms, further restricting her movement.  The Trainers both backed away to stand by the wall and wait until called upon by the Wrin again.

The woman’s eyes went to the Wrin as he slowly and methodically removed his outer robe, folded it and placed it in the hands of a waiting servant.  His underclothing was dark grey, nearly black; a short tunic trimmed in Bardero Parr’ish’s green over baggy trousers.  He rolled his shoulders and tugged the leather gloves off his hands.  When the servant would have taken those as well, he shook his head and carried them clenched in one fist as he walked up to the woman.

“Do you know who I am?”

He had worried upon hearing she was a wriggler that she was going to be a simpering mess, but her eyes were unafraid as she looked at him and nodded, then answered in a clear voice, “You are the Wrin of this bardero.”

There was a tradition to this, one David insisted on upholding, though the telpas he performed it for were largely unaware of the proper forms.  “Correct.  Do you know why you are here?”

“I was purchased as a body telpa for this bardero.”  Again, there was no fear or accusation in her tone.  This pleased David.

“Are you here by Choice?”  He had not been pleased with the answer to this question the last six times he had been in the position to ask it.

She kept her chin up, but her eyes downcast as she gulped and answered, “Yes, Wrin.”

Finally!  Now, if the male was also a Choicer, his father’s edict about the spending wouldn’t matter anymore.  “You know that I am not required by law or tradition to allow you the name given to you by your family?”

“Yes, Wrin,” she was being properly respectful, but met his eyes.  There was no challenge there, but neither was there defeat.  David was very pleased indeed.  He hated the broken ones, they were messy in other ways.  

“In this, I am non-traditional.  I’ll allow you your name, one of them anyway, so choose the one you’ll answer to.  What is it?”  David held a hand out and a small ledger and writing lead were exchanged for the gloves, which he wouldn’t need, this one did not need slapping down.  

“Laura.”  

He noted the name in his ledger and handed it back to the servant, dismissing the little woman with a wave of his hand.  

Striding forward, David put his thumb on Laura’s chin and tugged down until she opened her mouth.  He examined her teeth, forcing her chin up and around to do so.  Like her male companion, she had eaten well until recently.  Her hair, he noticed up close, was gold streaked, a very unusual coloring here, it marked her as otherworlder.  It also depreciated her value as a breeder; she would never be a concubine or handmaid.  She would only be good for breeding house, pleasure and field telpas, unless some noble didn’t care if his offspring were mis-colored.  

He slid his hands down her sides, and she jerked and twitched as his bare hands touched the midriff left bare by the cropped tunic and short skirt she was clad in. He smirked, keeping his face averted so that she wouldn’t see, ticklish then, more than a wriggler.  He spanned her hips with his hands, pressing down with his thumbs to feel the splay of her pelvis.  “Wider than I’d thought on first glance.  You might have some use as a breeder, after all.  Are you untouched?”  He knew that was unlikely, the value was too high for an untouched female, distasteful coloring or not.  

Surprisingly, she blushed a deeper red than her hair.  He blinked and reached a hand under her skirt, and quickly determined for himself that she was indeed untouched.  He withdrew his hand and stepped back, eyeing her with curiosity.  “Well now.  How very, very interesting.  This does change things a bit.”

Her face was bright red and she kept her eyes firmly fixed on the tips of David’s boots.  “How did this come to pass?  I was told you were military.”

“I was, Wrin.”

“And yet, untouched?”  When she did not answer, he reached over and clasped a handful of her hair and forced her head up, looking directly into her eyes.  “I do not repeat questions, girl.  When I ask one, you answer, or you will be punished.  Understood?”  He tugged her hair hard enough to make her blink back tears of pain before releasing her.  

“Yes, Wrin.  I was in service to Xepha, an acolyte.  When our homeworld and then our prayer house was overrun, I took up arms with the others.”

David gave a delighted laugh and clapped his hands together.  “Oh, how wonderful, a virgin warrior.  You might just be worth more than the other one.  Tell me, Little Priestess, why did you choose the pens?”

“My choices were limited, Wrin.  I did not wish to be put to the sword.  Serving the conquerors was unconscionable.  It was the mines of Yullar, the prickle thorn fields at Gan, the breeding pits or the pens.  I heard body telpas eat better, so I chose this.”

He stroked his chin thoughtfully and asked, “What is the man to you?”

“He was the Centan in charge of my unit, Wrin.”

David pinched her cheek, leaving a red mark as he withdrew his fingers.  “Here is what is going to happen, Laura.  You are, at the moment, a valuable creature, due to your untouched state.  I can assure you that once that state changes, your existence becomes much less interesting.  If you do as you are told, and cause no trouble, your duties as a body telpa to this bardero need not be unpleasant.”

He moved up quickly so that they were nearly nose to nose.  “If you cross me, girl, I will beat you half unto death, leave you for a day to wallow in your own blood, piss and shit and then beat the other half out of you.  Am I understood?”

Her voice was shaky as she whispered, “Yes, Wrin.”

He waved to the Trainers.  “Take her to my quarters; I don’t trust her in the dormitories or the nests.  Feren, you are to stay on the door, no one other than Oosh is to come near this one without my permission.  Anyone that speaks to her, looks at her or touches her will be put to the lash.”

“My servant, Oosh, is the only one you are permitted congress with, Laura.  You will sleep where she tells you; you will eat what she gives you.  Do not think your state protects you from a beating for disobedience, I am quite capable of killing without leaving a mark, a little discipline is quite easy.”  David waved his hands in dismissal and Feren ran forward and undid the bindings, and caught Laura up against him when she fell from the cross.  Holding the petite woman in his arms, he looked at the Wrin in a panic.  “That was to be expected, her legs have been bound, I trust you to take no liberties, Feren.”

“Will you walk or do I need to have you carried?" David asked as she got her feet under her and stood up straight.  

“I shall walk, Wrin.  I shall do as you have bid.  I thank you for the opportunity to serve.”  She almost sounded sincere, David thought as he watched her sway out of the room beside Feren.

“Max, bring me the other one,” David gestured to the other Trainer.  “You may call on Anjenne if he gives you trouble.”

“I do not believe he will, Wrin David, he has been most biddable,” Max intoned deeply.  Like Anjenne, he had been with Bardero Parr’ish long enough to take some liberties in addressing the Wrin.  Max had known David since the day he was born.  Most of what David knew about discipline and pleasure and pleasure-pain came from Max’s tutelage.

“Could I be so fortunate as to have finally made a good pair of purchases?”  David wondered aloud, making Max laugh as the elder Trainer left the room.

The male walked into the room without needing to be led or dragged.  “Stand here.”  David pointed to a spot in front of him, the man walked over and stood, bracing his feet slightly apart, clasping his hands behind his back and staring straight ahead.  Military.  If David had not known so before, the stance would have been a dead giveaway.  

Rituals could be boring, but David started the questioning as dictated.  Over in the corner, Max was watching un obtrusively, and there was still a small part of the trainee David had been at Max’s knee that wanted to please his old tutor.  “Do you know who I am?”

“Wrin David Parr’ish,” the telpa answered easily.  David made note of the fact that the telpa had gone to the trouble of finding out exactly who had purchased him.

“That is correct.  Do you know why you are here?”

The man managed to keep his face blank as he answered, “I am to be a body telpa here, Wrin Parr’ish.”

“Are you here by choice?”  

“Yes, Wrin Parr’ish.”

“You chose the pens over the fields?” 

“Yes Wrin Parr’ish.”

David leaned in, attempting to rattle the man.  “You had a hundred men under you, Centan, what choice did they make?”

It worked, the man blinked.  David gave him a few moments to compose an answer, but when he said nothing, David swung out a fist, catching him in the jaw and knocking him sideways to the floor.  The man reached up to rub at the sore spot, but wisely, stayed down and kept his eyes averted.  

“You already got your warning back at the pens.  Because you were drugged at the time, it was not the lash today.”  David stood back.  “Get up.  Answer the question.”

The telpa slowly got to his feet.  “Twenty six of my men survived the battle.  They were to be put to the sword with me if I made that choice, they were to share in whatever choice I made.  Body telpa are fed, clothed and housed, so I chose this for all of us.”

“You sent twenty six men to the pens.”  David walked a slow circle around him.  “Did you give them a choice?”

He nodded.  “Yes, we voted, Wrin Parr’ish.”

“And did they all choose the pens?”

The former Centan shook his head.  “Two chose to fall on the sword, Wrin Parr’ish.”

“I demand honesty at all times from my telpa,”  The Wrin said, stopping his meandering circle to stand in front of his new telpa once more.  “Honesty and obedience.”

A brief bob of the head, the blank look back in place on his face, the telpa answered, “I understand, Wrin Parr’ish.”

“You may have your name, if you care to keep it.  Choose it wisely, I don’t put up with changing things around later to suit the whims of flighty telpas.”  The servant had left the small ledger on a table beside the door; he walked over to collect it and the writing lead atop it.  

David had shaken him again, the telpa looked confused by the offer of his name.  Such a simple thing to grant, really, it cost David nothing.  “I am grateful, Wrin Parr’ish, the boon is unexpected.  Call me Lorne.”  

He noted the name on the page beside Laura’s and tossed the ledger aside carelessly.  Someone would pick it up later.

“ _Gan_ , take off your clothes; I want to see what I’ve bought.”

Lorne kicked off his Bardero Parr’ish issued sandals and undid the ties of his loose trousers, letting them fall to the floor and stepping out of them.  He tugged the hem of the Parr’ish green shirt over his head and dropped it on top of the pants, then resumed his previous stance.  

He was even more finely muscled than David had thought upon seeing him in the pens.  He might have actually brought a price close to what David had paid for him, if he had gone to the blocks for public sale.  His runner was getting a well earned treat for this.  He forced himself not to lick his lips and tamped down his attraction, a necessary skillset to have when training telpas.  Bardero Parr’ish had a reputation to uphold in training, as heir to the role of DranWrin, David had to embody the control their bardero was known for.  But sometimes it was difficult, especially when the telpa before him was one he had picked to train and use personally.

When he was in control again, he clasped his hands behind his back and moved closer to do the inspection he had planned.  He reached down and cupped Lorne’s balls, watching his eyes for reaction as he rolled them in his hand.  Lorne had excellent control; he didn’t flinch, even when David squeezed tightly before releasing him.  He circled around to his back and stopped short.  He put a hand out, gripped a shoulder and forced Lorne to turn towards the light coming from the wall sconces.  

His back was a mass of scars upon scars.  David ran his hand across the widest, thicker than his finger.  This was the result of repeated, brutal beatings, done by someone that did not know or care what they were doing.  No telpa should ever be left in such a condition.  David might threaten, frequently - as it was his favorite threat - to beat his telpas halfway to dead, but he had only done so once in his life.  No Trainer from Bardero Parr’ish would do something like this to a telpa.  “Who did this to you?”  David demanded, enraged.  

“I was not always a Centran, Wrin Parr’ish.  The last Wrin I served enjoyed pushing me to the limit of my pain threshold.”

“He set you free?”  David was barely leashing his temper.  He wanted to force the name out of Lorne and destroy the perpetrator of such carelessness.  He was infuriated at the Wrin possessing this level of disregard for valuable property.

“She had no choice, Wrin Parr’ish, all the telpa of the bardero were sent to the military when she broke code and incurred sanctions.”

“Bardero Emm’agen.  You were one of Wrina Emm’agen’s.”

Lorne nodded stiffly.  “Yes, Wrin Parr’ish.”

David ran his hand over the old scars once more.  His heart was no longer in the training session he had planned for Lorne.  All thoughts of Wrina Emm’agen turned his stomach.  Her crimes were the stuff of recent legend.  An old threat to keep telpa in line had been to tell them that they would be sold to Bardero Emm’agen if they did not behave.  David had met her once, and the meeting had left him shaken, the woman was evil.  He decided to do a very abbreviated version of the training session today, and see how it went.  His interest might return in time.

“ _Jaa,_ ” he snapped, and Lorne immediately went to his knees. He pointed to the floor.  “ _Sis_.”  Without any hesitation, Lorne was down, his chest pressed to the floor, his arms stretched straight out over his head.  David crouched down and lifted Lorne’s wrists, pushing his arms back so that his arms were folding in front of him.  “Bardero Parr’ish prefers this position.”  

Lorne had retained his training, he didn’t speak to acknowledge the change, ‘ _Sis_ ’ position required silence.  He didn’t doubt that Lorne knew all the traditional commands, Wrina Emm’agen would have seen to that.  “ _Pol_.”  The telpa sat up onto his haunches, hands resting on his knees, gaze fixed straight ahead.  He’d probably developed that dead eyed stare as a defense for dealing with Wrina Emm’agen.  

“How old were you, when she bought you?”

“Twelve, Wrin Parr’ish.”

“When you were sent to the military?”

“Twenty three, Wrin Parr’ish.”

“How old are you now?”  

“Nearly thirty, Wrin Parrish.”

“Did she breed you?”

Lorne’s composure slipped, he blinked and shifted slightly.  “She tried, Wrin Parrish, nothing took.  She had me branded.”  Lorne tilted his head forward and lifted the hair at the back of his neck.  David walked over to look and saw the mark; Lorne was officially sterile and would have been listed as such in the books of Bardero Emm’agen.

“I didn’t buy you for that anyway.”  He moved to stand in front of Lorne and commanded quietly, “ _Lel.”_ He had no intention of carrying through with the act; he wanted to see how Lorne responded to the command.  He didn’t, at least not properly.  Lorne blinked and then titled his head back and looked up at David, no comprehension in his eyes. 

“Did she ever share you out?” David asked.

Lorne shook his head, sending his shoulder length hair flying.  “I was one of her personal body telpa.” 

“Were you taught to pleasure a man by the Trainers at Bardero Emm’agen, have you never been with a man?”

Again, a head shake.  “No, Wrin Parr’ish.”

David found his interest renewed.  “Hands.”  Lorne obediently raised his hands to chest height and held them there.  “I bought you with the intent of making you my personal body telpa, Lorne.  You’ll learn your duties, from me.  I am not in the habit of sharing out.”

The former Centran’s composure was shaken at that.  His hands trembled slightly and he was blinking rapidly.  This was where David wanted him, the point he had been hoping to get him to, in order to establish his dominance.  The telpa's confident air and seeming lack of concern had been making David mildly nervous.  “If you do as you are told, it will go well for you here at Bardero Parr’ish.  Please me, serve me faithfully, and upon my death, you might earn the farms.

“You have seen that I have a quick temper, however, I consider myself fair.  Follow the rules, do as you are told, and you will not be punished.  Disobey me, and I will make you wish you were dead, and then I will deny you the privilege. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Wrin Parr’ish."

David reached down and cupped one hand to Lorne’s chin, forcing him to look up for instruction.  He preferred his sex rough, but he sensed he should perhaps go cautiously with Lorne; Wrina Emm’agen had left a mark on him, David did not want to push the man over an edge by going too quickly or roughly at first.  This would require a change to his usual training methods.  He sensed that this one was worth the extra effort.  He was marvelously well behaved so far, well trained in the basics.  

“You do not need to ‘Yes, Wrin Parr’ish’ me during a training session, it gets repetitive and annoying, if you understand, a simple ‘yes’ or nod of the head is fine during a session.  If you have a question, ask, it annoys me when telpa flounder in ignorance.  The first command is _Lel._   Undo my ties, pull out my cock, pay reverence.  Then you are to sit back and wait for the next command.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, W…”  Lorne raised his shaking hands to David’s trousers and untied the fastenings.  He pushed the fabric apart and reached in to hesitantly grasp David’s half-hard member and drew it out.  With David’s cock awkwardly held between his fingers he looked up and asked, “How do I show proper reverence, Wrin?”

“I prefer if you take the head in your mouth and suck once, lightly and then release.”  Lorne bent his head and did as he had been told.  At the touch of the warm lips around him, David’s body jerked forward.  He should probably have taken care of his needs before starting this session, but he had not planned for things to go this way, he had envisioned more flogging and slapping, perhaps a bit of yelling.  

Lorne gently lowered David’s cock back against his body and sat back on his heels to wait for further instructions.  

“What was the command?”

“   
_  
Lel.”   
_

“Correct.”  He wanted that mouth back on him again.  “Did you ever have your cock sucked, Lorne?”

“Yes.”

“At least I don’t have to explain the concept.  The command is _Dal_.  Do not use your teeth unless you are told to.  I prefer a combination of sucking and licking, do not stay in one place too long, unless I hold you there.  If you need to breathe, pull off, I don’t want you passing out from lack of air.  If I spill, you are to swallow.  Understood?”

“Yes.”

“   
_  
Dal.”    
_

Lorne raised himself up on his knees and took David’s length into his mouth.  It took him some time, which David allowed him to discover and pace himself on his own, but he established a rhythm soon enough.  It was the licks and swirls that nearly undid him.  Lorne might not have the sucking down yet, but the man knew how to use his tongue.  When Lorne looked up at him with those odd blue eyes and his mouth full of David’s rigid length, David reached down and twined his fingers through Lorne’s hair, and began using that hold to saw in and out of Lorne’s mouth, thrusting hard and rapidly.  He didn’t last long after that, and spilled into his telpa’s mouth.  David let go of the tight grip he had on the man’s hair, letting him move on his own.  

Choking a bit, Lorne rocked back on his heels, coughing.  He had managed to swallow almost everything, only a small trickle dripped down from the sides of his mouth.    David breathed heavily, putting himself through calming exercises to regain the control he had just lost.  

“Done correctly.”  David reached over and lightly stroked a hand over Lorne’s head, an old habit leftover from the last body telpa that had responded positively to petting.  When he realized what he was doing he almost stopped, until he saw that Lorne was leaning into the caress.  He stroked over his hair a few times and then let his hand drop away.  “I guess it wasn’t so terrible?”  David asked quietly, unsure why he asked, he had never cared much in the past how his body telpa felt about what they were ordered to do.  He did what made them respond best, nothing more.

“No, Wrin,” Lorne replied, staring down at his hands, where they rested on his knees.  He had returned automatically to the proper position, _Pol_ , without prompting.  

“If we were in chambers, the next order would be ‘ _Cre_ ’ – which would be to cleanse me, and then yourself.”  A washrag appeared before David’s face and he rolled his eyes.  He’d completely forgotten that Max was in the room.  Annoyed that the Trainer had been witness to the exchange, he snatched the damp rag and held it out to Lorne.  “ _Cre_.”

Slowly, properly, Lorne gently washed him and then did up David’s trousers.  He set the rag on the floor beside him and went back into _Pol_.  

David turned to Max, who was smiling oddly at him.  When he saw David’s glare the smile disappeared from his mouth, but it was still in his eyes.  “No one touches him.  He’s mine.  If anyone, especially Phil, goes near him, I am to be summoned immediately, no matter the time.  Until I get the girl settled, I cannot have him in my quarters.  Take him to the baths, he earned a treat; let him soak as long as he likes.  Bring him back here tomorrow at forth bell for another session.”

“Yes, Wrin Parr’ish.”

“And stop smirking at me, Max.”  

“Of course, Wrin Parr’ish.”  Max looked at Lorne and snapped, “Come along, get dressed.”  Collecting his clothes from the pile on the floor, Lorne got to his feet and hurriedly redressed.

David watched him go, wondering why this one was different.  He had never lost control like that during a session.  

It irritated him.

“Anjenne!”  David bellowed at the top of his lungs.

The rattle of the belts and chains preceded the servant.  “Yes, Wrin Parr’ish?”

“Do we have anyone needing discipline today?”

“Ja’han was insolent again, he did not move quick enough to suit cook.”

“Perfect, bring him.”  David smiled and went to the rack of tools, selecting a long multi-strand flogger.  Ja’han only understood the lash.  David suspected the telpa did these things on purpose; he seemed to enjoy the punishment too much.  Some were like that, enjoying the pain.  He flicked the lash out, taking comfort in the familiar sound of the snap and crackle of the leather.  

This was what he needed to calm himself down, a good session of discipline.  He sat on the bench near the wall and waited for Anjenne to bring Ja’han in.  This would make everything all right again, would wipe the disturbing thoughts of the new telpa from his mind.  He tilted his head back and tried to clear his mind, but the memory of blue eyes looking up at him as his cock was being sucked set his mind a skitter again.  

The End

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Glossary of Telpa Commands:  
> Cre - wash up  
> Dal - orally pleasure  
> Gan - strip  
> Jaa - kneel  
> Lel - undo, prepare, pay reverence  
> Pol - kneel, sit or stand at attention  
> Sis - pay homage, kneel and prostrate


End file.
